As the American economy claws its way back from the edge of a cliff, Michigan serves as a powerful example of just how bad things are in some places, and, indeed, how bad they could get for the rest of the country. The state continues to have the highest unemployment of any state, and, while the auto bailouts appear to have prevented the wholesale collapse of the industry, there is no question that American automakers will cease to exist if they do not thoroughly reform themselves, which would send the state’s unemployment rate still higher. And yet, in Flint, a city at the center of the storm, where more than a third of residents live in poverty, citizens refuse to give up on their community.
The recent passing of Robert McNamara provides us with a critical opportunity to reflect on redemption, one of our most deeply held values. As an architect of the Vietnam War, McNamara is inextricably linked to one of the most controversial events in recent U.S. foreign policy. For some, the War, particularly its brutality, will be Mr. McNamara's only legacy. To others, though, he serves as a powerful example of the human capacity to change and grow.
There is a broad consensus that access to a quality education is a fundamental human right. This consensus is reflected in the fact that every individual within our boundaries, regardless of race, ethnic background, nation of origin, or ability to pay, is entitled to a seat in a classroom from kindergarten through grade 12. However, the education that children actually receive varies dramatically by those very factors which are supposed to be immaterial. There is real hope though, as a new crop of leaders and entrepreneurs is applying solutions that range from the systemic to the technocratic to move us from a standard of universal class time to universal high quality education.
Much has been made of the vitality that President Obama brings to the White House. To be sure, this is in part the story of his relative youth—only Clinton, Grant, Kennedy, and Theodore Roosevelt were younger when assuming the office—but it’s also a function of his ability to convince the millennial generation (or vocalize the millennial generation’s belief) that their voices matter. Given the size and scope of the challenges facing our nation, we need young people to see the stake that they have in their communities.
Our communities are more than just the physical spaces, or indeed even the relationships, that constitute them. Rather, our communities are a reflection of the countless individual times when each and every one of us has looked beyond our parochial interests to invest time, energy, and resources into something bigger than ourselves. Bringing food and comfort to an ailing neighbor, organizing a block party, or even stopping to pick up a single piece of litter; these are the actions that build a community.
It's been said that when your neighbor loses his or her job, the economy is in recession, but when you lose your own, the economy is in depression. In addition to being overly glib, this idea has always struck me as a fundamental underestimation of the strength and compassion of our communities.